


The Naming Day

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turgon gets used to being a father with the help of his siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Naming Day

The lights of the trees were mingling, and the crowd of family members, curious townspeople and general well-wishers who had surrounded Turukáno for most of the day had finally begun to disperse. He knew this day, the Naming ceremony of his first child, was a necessary formality, a chance to publically celebrate the birth of the Noldor’s new princess. Thus he had dutifully spent the rest of the day making polite conversation and graciously accepting gifts and compliments. They had chosen a Vanyarin-style ceremony in Tirion, an odd mixture, he thought, of a display of friendship between the two families and a calculated political performance. He had seen very little of Elenwë, who had quickly been swept away, (with an apologetic but genuinely happy smile that made his heart sing) by what seemed like a small crowd of her extremely excitable young cousins. All of them seemed to have identical golden hair and loud, bright laughter, as they cooed over the baby in Elenwë’s arms. He worried at first about whether it would be too much for little Itarillë, but she did not cry, only staring up at them with wide blue eyes from her mother’s arms and grasping curiously at their hair with an outstretched hand, while Elenwë made easy conversation. Sometimes, Turukáno wished that he could talk and laugh with them as easily as that. But when he expressed this thought to Elenwë, she only smiled, twined her arms around his neck and kissed him affectionately. He could hear her words in his mind now.  _What do you think you have me for? Frankly, if you were any use for making small talk with crowds of my overly cheerful cousins, I would highly doubt whether you were still the same serious, careful, and endearingly awkward Turukáno that I married._ He smiled a little at the thought. Itarillë was only a few weeks old, but already she was beginning to resemble her mother in looks. He sincerely hoped she would inherit Elenwë’s temperament along with them.

He watched his wife and daughter across the palace gardens, momentarily left to his own thoughts as the guests moved around him. They had held their wedding here too, although that had been a markedly more Noldorin occasion, all heavy brocaded fabric, elaborate jewellery, intricately braided hair, the trees lining the garden walls decorated with garlands of tiny, sparkling gemstone lamps. He found himself wishing that they could leave early as they had that day, shirk their social obligations, hide themselves away and revel in the simple fact of their tiny, perfect family, just the three of them together. Suddenly a familiar voice spoke behind him.

“Turno you’re staring off into thin air. Did you know?”

He turned, with a sigh, to see his brothers and his sister standing a little way away, watching him even as he had watched his wife and daughter. “Irissë, as always your observations are  _most_ astute, and almost entirely unnecessary.” He walked over to where they were standing. “How long have you three been there?”

Arakáno smiled “Oh, not long. Irissë spotted you standing on your own, and we thought we would observe the behaviour of our brother, the new father.”

“Besides,” added Findekáno, “You’ve been talking to people most of the day. You haven’t even given us a chance to congratulate you properly!”

“Finno, you congratulated me after Itarillë was born. Repeatedly. Remember?”

Findekáno simply ignored his words and swept him into a bone-crushing hug. “Never much been one for festive occasions, have you Turno?”

“ _Ai!_ Findekáno! That hurt!”

“Now now Finno,” said Irissë. “Be careful you don’t crush him in your death grip. He’s got a daughter now, after all.” She was beaming with more pride than Turukáno had ever seen on her face before, and it left him slightly bemused. “And anyway, I too want a hug from the one to whom this day belongs” with that she wrapped her arms around them both, and her next words were muffled by his tunic, but affectionate. “Well… actually that would be Elenwë. But she is currently surrounded by about fifty Vanyar that I can barely tell apart.” She sighed dramatically. “I suppose I shall have to learn all their names at some point.” She rested her cheek against his chest, her wild hair tickling his face. “I truly am happy for you both, you know.”

“As am I.” Not to be outdone, Arakáno flung his arms around all three of his siblings. “To think, you’ve got a  _child_  now, Turno!”

They broke apart, amused suspicion on Turukáno’s face. “Just what are you trying to imply?”

Arakáno grinned. “Just… I hope she turns out more like Elenwë. It wouldn’t do to have another little Turukáno around, even if this one is a girl. Or, Valar save us, another Irissë!”

“Hey!” Irissë’s voice was indignant. “That was completely uncalled for! Pray tell me, what I have  _ever_ done to you? To any of you, for that matter?”

Findekáno laughed. “Do you really want us to answer that question? Because I have a few things that I could - ”

“Shame on you Finno” she interrupted hastily, darting a glance at Turukáno. “This day is, after all, supposed to be about our brother and his new family. Turukáno, I wish you and Elenwë dozens of chubby-cheeked, blond-haired children. And may they all grow taller than Findekáno.” She smiled sweetly in her eldest brother’s direction. “Not that I ever doubted that would happen.”

Findekáno looked a little put out. “Now who’s saying things that are uncalled for?”

Arakáno laughed, reaching over to ruffle Findekáno’s hair. “Findekáno. You’re not  _still_  resentful that both Turno and I are taller than you? Could it be…?”

Findekáno glared at Arakáno, but did not dignify this with a response. Arakáno smiled cheerfullly back at him. “I love being the tallest one in this family.”

“I swear Arko, if you weren’t my  _baby_  brother, I would not pause in - ” he stopped. “Besides, you’re not the tallest in the  _entire_  family. Maitimo is taller than you.”

“Doesn’t count. You know what I - ” suddenly his face broke into a grin, and he and Irissë burst out laughing. “Alright Irissë, pay up. I won.”

She took two small gemstones from her pocket and handed them over, although it appeared not to dampen her mood in the least.

“We took wagers” she explained to Turukáno. “Arakáno bet me Finno couldn’t last an hour without mentioning Maitimo.” She shook her head, although she was grinning. “I will be wiser next time.”

“ _Excuse me!_ ”

“Yes, dearest Finno?”

“I’d like to know when this day turned from congratulate-Turno-day to be-unecessarily-cruel-to-Finno day. I’m the eldest here. Maitimo’s younger brothers- ”

He broke off, turning slightly pink as Irissë and Arakáno exchanged grins again, and two more gemstones changed hands.

“Findekáno, you know perfectly well that Maitimo’s younger brothers tease him mercilessly, just as they tease each other. Anyway, you’re right though. It is a day on which to be kind to Turukáno. Which is why I’m not currently giving him the same treatment.”

“Irissë” said Turukáno, “that might just be the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

She was about to reply when Turukáno turned, recognising Elenwë’s voice behind him as she approached them, carrying Itarillë in her arms. Their daughter seemed, to all appearances, to be sleeping peacefully. “ _There_  you all are! I’m terribly sorry for abandoning you all afternoon, Turno my love. I know you despise this sort of society gathering.” She smiled at the protest forming on his lips. “Don’t worry, I find it rather exhausting after a while too. I didn’t even know I  _had_ so many distant cousins and assorted relatives, let alone that they would all be so keen to flock to Tirion to see our daughter’s Naming. I swear there are _more_  of them since the wedding…” then she smiled. “And suddenly all the younger girls in the family are desperate to marry Noldorin princes too.” She stood on tiptoe to place a light, playful kiss on the tip of Turukáno’s ear, and then grinned wearily. “Arakáno, you don’t want to get married soon do you? They all seem to think you lot terribly exotic and interesting, and my littlest sister keeps asking me if Turukáno has any handsome, available younger brothers.”

Arakáno, blushing furiously, opened his mouth to reply, but Findekáno beat him to it, feigning shock. “Elenwë! Arakáno is far too young to be married! He’s still barely out of childhood!”

“And yet, still taller than you…” Arakáno’s smile was just a little smug.

Findekáno scowled.

Irissë snorted. “Findekáno. Please. Remind me how old  _you_  were when you started - ”

“Arakáno” interrupted Findekáno quickly, turning slightly pink and ignoring Irissë. “At least  _I_ don’t walk into things and trip over my own feet all the time.”

It was Arakáno’s turn to glare at his brother. “It’s called a growth spurt” he said stiffly. “It wouldn’t surprise me though, if you haven’t heard the term…”

Irissë rolled her eyes. “Honestly. There was never this much drama when Turno grew taller than Finno” she assured Elenwë. “It’s been a perfect day though. No major political disasters or shouting matches between cousins. I’m highly suspicious, to be completely honest.”

Elenwë grimaced. “If any of the cousins, on either side of the family, should have the nerve to wake Itarillë, I would almost consider causing a small political incident myself. She’s had a long, tiring day. Haven’t you, little one?” She raised the sleeping child to kiss her cheek.

Turukáno put an arm around Elenwë’s shoulders in consternation, looking down at Itarillë and sweeping a stray wisp of golden hair from her brow. “Do you want me to hold her for a while? You must be tired. You’ve barely even had a chance to sit down.”

Elenwë smiled gratefully. “That would actually be much appreciated.”

Turukáno reached over to cradle his daughter, frowning in concentration and wondering vaguely what he had done to deserve such a perfect child. As he held her, her eyes fluttered open, and a whimper escaped her mouth, and then a small cry, as her tiny face crumpled ominously. Her bottom lip stuck out and her eyes began to fill with tears as she was taken from her mother. But then she seemed to recognised him, and the tears were gone almost as quickly as they had come. Instead, her round blue eyes stared up at him in fascination, her mouth a tiny pout. Turukáno smiled down at her, as she turned her head in his arms to take in her surroundings.

Suddenly her gaze caught Findekáno, and a tiny hand shot out towards him, a cry of delight escaping her lips. Findekáno laughed. “Sorry Turukáno. It would appear your daughter likes  _me_  best.” A little reluctantly, Turukáno passed the child to his brother. Immediately she seized a handful of his hair and shook it in front of her face in delight, as if marvelling at the golden threads braided into it.

“Ha! I knew it” said Arakáno. “Don’t worry, your place in Itarillë’s heart is safe, Turno. She doesn’t like Finno quite as much as she likes his hair!”

By now, Itarillë had fallen asleep again, with one of Findekáno’s braids securely tucked in her mouth, her small face a picture of peace and contentment.

“Well, it looks like I’ll just have to keep her forever then” said Findekáno cheerily. “Sorry Turukáno, Elenwë. You’ll just have to have some more children.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged…” Elenwë gave Turukáno a conspiratorial, sidelong smile, making him blush to the roots of his hair. She laughed. “It never fails to amuse me how  _proper_  you feel the need to be at all times, Turno.”

A companionable silence fell between them as the light of Laurelin began to wane in earnest.

Finally Findekáno spoke. “But truly, if you ever want any of us to help look after your hopefully many children, then… well… oh, just stay in contact with us, alright?” Irissë nodded along in agreement, and Arakáno was smiling as he stared down at Itarillë’s sleeping face in the crook of Findekáno’s arm. “Because…” Findekáno cleared his throat awkwardly and drew himself up to his full height, raising his jaw proudly. “We’ll always be around to help. Know that, brother.”

“Don’t worry, Findekáno. I know.”


End file.
